


Off Duty

by Persiflage



Series: Skoulson RomFest 2k16 [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Inhumans (Marvel), Minor Character Death, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Alternating, POV Phil Coulson, POV Second Person, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson Has got a Huge Cock, Prompt Fic, Referenced Mack/Bobbi, Referenced Meldrew, Skoulson Romfest 2k16, Skoulson Sex Cabin, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Snowed In, The Retreat, toenail painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson and Daisy spend some off-duty time at The Retreat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts).



> Written for the Skoulson Romfest 2k16 for Day 7's 'free theme'. This fic's a thank you to becketted and hamsterfactor for their sterling work in organising and running yet another successful RomFest for our tiny shipping fandom.
> 
> The fic was inspired by hamsterfactor's gifset for the prompt 'Off Duty': http://johnsonandcoulson.tumblr.com/post/137571381705/skoulson-romfest-2k16-day-1-off-duty

You get up to close the curtains and note, "It's snowing."

"Are we gonna get snowed in Phil?" Daisy asks from her spot by the fireplace – she's currently roasting post-dinner marshmallows.

"Probably not," you say after a moment of watching the feathery flakes fall. "Not unless it starts to come down much heavier."

"Oh well." She sounds philosophically accepting, rather than disappointed, you think as you finish closing the curtains. When you turn around again you can't help a soft smile at the sight that meets your eyes. She's wearing jeans and a heavy sweater of yours, you'd loaned it to her because she was so cold after your trip from New England.

"Are you warming up?" you ask as you move across the room to sit beside her on the hearth.

"Yes thanks." She smiles equally softly at you. "I kinda love your sweater, Phil."

You decide you're probably totally smitten with her because you immediately tell her, "Keep it. I've got others."

"Seriously?" she asks, her eyes and voice indicating her disbelief that you are serious.

"Yeah."

She stares at you, and you see the way the tip of her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and you're instantly, embarrassingly hard. You drag your eyes away from her mouth, then reach over to clasp her wrist and pull back the toasting fork where the marshmallow's becoming slightly singed as a consequence of her distraction.

"Sorry," she whispers.

You shake your head, then take the marshmallow off and pop it into your mouth, then realise she's staring at your mouth this time. Your cock grows harder, and you drop your eyes, chewing desperately and feeling glad that your jeans hide your arousal from her.

"I think I'm gonna paint my toenails," she says, and you blink up at her, confused by the nonsequitur. 

"Okay," you say, and watch as she gets up energetically and hurries into the bedroom. She returns quickly carrying a small bag, which she opens to reveal a collection of bottles of nail polish. She sets the bag down on the coffee table, then sits on the couch and pulls off her boots and socks. You're hard again, and your mouth has gone dry – it's the casual domesticity of it, you think – and you ought to be used to that by now, the number of road trips you and Daisy have taken while trying to track down Inhumans. But sharing motel rooms with Daisy isn't the same as sharing The Retreat – motels just don't offer the same level of domesticity.

"You ever paint a girl's toenails, Phil?" 

She asks the question in a teasing tone, you notice, and you're sure she's expecting a negative response, so you do your best to refrain from smiling as you answer, as casually as you can manage, "Sure, though not for a very long time."

"Really?" Her expression is as sceptical as her tone, and you do your best not to smirk as you nod. 

"Yep. Although I can't give you her number to call for a reference, I'm afraid." Your light tone probably doesn't mask your sadness as you say this – Daisy is, after all, appallingly good at reading you.

"Dead?" she asks gently, her expression serious and sad as she curls her hand over your wrist.

You nod. "HYDRA got her, back when – " You don't finish the sentence but you know you don't need to – she understands.

"Well then," she says in a bright voice, "show me what you've got, mister."

You laugh, delighted by the idea, and get up to fetch a stool for her to put her feet on, then you kneel in front of the stool and pull out the foam dividers. Doing this seems very intimate, but you don't feel uncomfortable about the intimacy – it just seems inevitable, somehow. You take your time sorting through the bottles of nail polish until you find the perfect one. Shaking the bottle, you unscrew the cap and pull out the brush, then look up at Daisy. 

"Last chance to back out," you tell her, teasingly, the brush hovering over her big toe.

She bites her lip, then shakes her head. "Go for it, Phil," she says, and you smirk, then carefully clasp her foot in your left hand and begin to apply the polish with steady, even strokes.

"Why that shade of blue?" she asks as you're finishing up the first nail.

"You don't like it?" you ask, suddenly worried, looking back up at her face.

"No, I do," she insists. "I'm just curious."

"It – uh – well, it reminds me of you," you say a bit hesitantly, not sure if she'll think you're being weird. "From before you changed your name. Sky blue."

A sharp little intake of breath makes you worry you've upset her, and there's a sheen of moisture in her eyes that makes your entire body clench with anger at yourself for upsetting her. You hastily push the brush back into the bottle.

"I'm sorry, Daisy," you say quickly. "Please don't think I disrespect your decision to change your name. I honestly don't. It's just – "

"Phil," she says, cutting you off. "I'm not angry with you."

"You're – you're not?" You feel a little doubtful about the honesty of her words, because it's very like Daisy to downplay her own feelings.

"I'm not," she says emphatically. "It means a lot to me that you miss calling me 'Skye'."

"It does?"

"Of course," she says immediately, as if it should be obvious. "No one else ever said my name the way you did." She drops her gaze to her toes. "No one else ever gave it as much meaning as you did."

"Oh." You feel stunned by this and realise that you don't know what to say, so you just uncap the bottle of polish again, and resume your task.

Once you've finished, Daisy looks suitably impressed with your work, and you can't help smirking just a bit at her expression.

"Well done, Phil," she says. She scoops up the bottles of nail polish and carries them back into the bedroom, and you get up to make some hot chocolate (with a twist – a shot of alcohol – because you can). As you wait for the water to heat you go to the window and take a quick peek out to see that the snow is coming down more heavily now.

When you turn around Daisy's standing a few feet away, staring at you intently, but before you can ask what's up, she smiles, then says, "I think you deserve a reward for doing my toes."

You chuckle. "That's not necessary. I enjoyed it."

She shakes her head, then crosses the room quickly, and before you can process what's happening, her hands are on your neck and head, and her mouth is on yours, hot and hungry. You gasp in astonishment, and she immediately pushes her tongue inside, which makes you groan as your cock stiffens and lengthens inside your pants.

"Daisy," you gasp, pulling your mouth from hers for a moment. "What – ?"

She slides her left hand from the back of your head, down your chest, then cups your crotch. "Don't tell me you're not interested Phil," she says. "Vibrations can't lie."

You groan and pull her back towards you, tangling your fingers in her hair (she's grown it out again in the last few months), and begin kissing her back as hungrily as she'd first kissed you.

"Fuck," you grunt when she gets your jeans unfastened and slips her hand inside to curl around your rock hard cock.

"On the couch or on the bed?" she asks, and it takes you a moment to process the question, and then you flush with heat and desire. 

"The bed," you tell her. 

The two of you stumble into the bedroom, trying to kiss while walking, and Daisy finally breaks away, breathless and laughing, then she pushes you down onto the bed, and tugs your sweater off, before attacking your shirt buttons as she kisses you. You can't get her sweater off while she's kissing you, but you do pull up the sweater, and the shirt she's wearing underneath it, so you can run your hands up her torso.

"Shit, Phil!" she gasps when your hands cup her breasts over her bra, your thumbs rubbing at her already stiff nipples. She kisses you harder, then bites down on your bottom lip, and you groan loudly.

"Clothes," you gasp. "Too many."

"Yeah. I – yeah." She pulls away from you and lifts her sweater and shirt up and over her head in one go, then she shimmies out of her jeans, her eyes locked on yours as she reveals a pair of lilac panties that match the bra she's wearing. You can't help biting your lip when you see there's already a damp spot on the crotch of her panties. She moves back into your space, then pushes your shoulder so you fall backwards onto the bed. She rapidly strips off your jeans and boxers, being careful of your swollen cock. Then she places her hand over your heart, looking intently at the huge scar on your chest.

"Oh Phil," she says softly, then she sheds her underwear and climbs onto your lap.

"Daisy!" You can only groan her name as she slips a condom onto your cock – and you've no idea where she produced it from, then she guides you into her tight, wet heat, making you groan even more loudly as you fill her.

"Fuck!" That word in Daisy's mouth sounds so filthy that you grab her hips and thrust up, hard and deep, and she grunts, then squeezes her muscles around your cock, making you groan even more. You proceed to fuck each other until you're spent, your limbs feeling like undercooked noodles.

"Wow," you say. It's a bit of a lame thing to say but you're just a bit too stunned to say much right now.

"Yeah," she agrees with a heavy sigh, then she rolls off you and disposes of the condom, before climbing back onto the bed to snuggle up at your side. Between you, you pull the sheets and blankets up over yourselves and Daisy sets her head on your left shoulder, throwing her left arm across your torso.

"You don't mind post-sex snuggles, do you?" she asks, and you chuckle.

"I really don't," you say reassuringly. You sling your right arm over her hip and tug her body even closer to yours. "I've got to admit, you took me by surprise."

"Yeah?" She smirks, as if she likes the idea of taking you by surprise.

"Yeah. I never would've thought this was on the agenda."

"Until I got my powers, I had no idea it was a possibility," she says. "I mean, I knew you cared about me – from the way you've always behaved, and from the things you've done – climbing aboard the Bus to get me free of Ward, and the business with the GH drug, and other stuff."

"Your powers really can tell you when someone's aroused?" you ask, stroking your fingers lightly back and forth across her hip.

It's her turn to chuckle now. "Yeah, Phil. I mean, I don't know if it'd work for someone who's not attracted to me – you know, if I was with someone who was attracted to another person rather than me. But with you, I can tell what mood you're in without you even speaking."

"Huh." 

"Don't worry, Phil. I'd never use it to take advantage."

"Never even crossed my mind," you tell her honestly. 

She looks at you intently for a few moments, then nods. "Is it lame that I feel like sleeping?"

You smirk. "Traditionally it's the guy who falls asleep after sex." She rolls her eyes at you, making you laugh. "It's not lame," you say reassuringly. 

"Good."

AC-S-AC-S-AC

You wake the following morning to bright sunlight sneaking though the blinds, and Daisy spooned up behind you, her arms wrapped firmly around your torso. You can't recall the last time you felt so relaxed, and you don't even care that you've obviously overslept. 

You feel Daisy's arms tighten around you, and you whisper a 'Good morning'. She murmurs a reply, then nips at your ear, before nuzzling the side of your neck.

"Do you always wake up this frisky?" you ask teasingly.

"This is a first," she says, and you grunt when her hand snakes down to cup your morning wood.

"Lie on your back," she murmurs in your ear, and you groan, then roll over onto your back. Daisy moves her body over yours, your cock trapped between your bodies, and you realise her sex is already damp, and that makes you feel even more aroused.

"Daisy," you groan as she begins to kiss all over your face, then drags her tongue along your jaw. You don't think anyone's ever appreciated your five o'clock shadow as much as she seems to, and you moan loudly. "Fuck, Daisy!" Your cock feels like it might burst and you reach down between your bodies to try to guide it inside her.

"Ah, ah," she says, and rolls off you, making you whine pathetically at the loss of her weight on your body. "Did I give you permission?" 

You shiver at the stern tone of voice, and her eyes light up as she obviously realises that you're even more turned on now. "Oh you like that do you, Phil? A woman who's bossy in bed?" 

You can feel your face flushing and you attempt to deal with your embarrassment by trying to pull her back into your space, but she resists, laughing joyously.

"Nuh-uh, mister," she says in a teasing voice. "Not until I say you can."

"Daisy," you groan, cupping your balls and the base of your cock. Her eyes go wide, and then she smirks.

"Yeah, Phil. I wanna see you masturbate."

"Oh god," you groan, closing your eyes and throwing your left arm over your face. 

She moves in close and tugs your arm down. "What're you embarrassed about?" she asks, and her tone's gentler, less teasing now.

"Because I can't hide anything from you now. I'm totally compromised," you tell her.

Daisy's expression grows solemn and she sits beside you, cross-legged, and the fact she's naked doesn't detract from how seriously she's taking your answer. "Does that matter very much?" she asks softly.

You heave a sigh, then sit up beside her. "No, not any more." You reach out and cup her cheek with your right hand. "I'm just so used to thinking it's a bad thing. But no, now I'm no longer Director, and you're a team leader in your own right, _Commander_ Johnson." You shake your head, and she smiles brightly.

"In that case, _Agent_ Coulson, I wanna see you wank. Show me your best moves."

You can't help it, you laugh at her commanding tone, but she just raises her eyebrows at you. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Daisy. I get the message," you say, trying to sound put upon, but secretly thrilled. You do enjoy women bossing you around in bed – women who are sure of themselves sexually are thrilling. You hadn't expected it from Daisy because you thought she might feel weird about giving you orders in the bedroom, but apparently she's completely unfazed by the idea. 

You shift up the bed so your back's against the wall, then she picks up a pillow so you lean forward again while she puts it behind you. Then you reach down again and cup your balls and the base of your cock in your right hand. She settles beside you, her expression intent, but even without her powers, you can sense she's excited by the prospect of watching you, and you resolve to give her the show she wants.

You find yourself watching her as intently as she's watching you, and the fact she's obviously enjoying watching you means you climax a lot sooner than you'd hoped – but the sight of her eyes wide and dark with lust, her tongue slipping out to repeatedly stroke along her bottom lip, and the sound of her breathing, little hitches and tiny gasps, just blow you away until you're pumping come onto your chest and belly.

"Phil," she moans, and you want to pull her into your lap and kiss her senseless, but you're conscious of the mess you've just made. Daisy apparently doesn't care, however, because she clambers into your lap and kisses you, and you wonder if she's turned into a mind reader without telling you.

"I'm sticky," you say, trying to hold her body away from yours. 

"Who cares?" she says. "We can easily have a shower."

"Together?" you ask hopefully, and she chuckles, mutters an agreement, then resumes kissing you, her breasts pressed firmly to your chest.

You wrap your left arm around her middle, but you rest your right arm across her lower back, then you slide your hand over her ass, and between her thighs.

"Yeah, Phil," she says, pulling back from kissing you for a moment. She shifts, giving you better access, and you slide a finger inside her, eliciting a loud moan. Soon you add a second finger, and shortly after that she's coming hard, her muscles tight around your fingers. Once her sex relaxes its hold on you, though, you resume fingering her, and she gasps, clearly surprised. You work her through her aftershocks, and quickly drive her to a second climax.

"Fuck Phil," she sighs when you finally withdraw your hand. She leans back a bit, then reaches down to grab your wrist, lifting your hand and sliding your fingers into her mouth.

It's your turn to swear as she sucks your fingers clean of her own come, and you realise you're growing hard again.

"Shower?" she asks, and you nod.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

You shower together, then towel off before dressing. Daisy's dressed before you, and you hear her calling from the other room, so you hurry out of the bedroom to see she's standing at the open door of The Retreat, revealing a significant amount of snow outside.

"I don't know if we'll make it back to The Cocoon today, Phil," she says.

"No," you agree, and wonder if you should feel bad that you're secretly relieved at the prospect of another day here with Daisy. 

She smirks at you, then waggles her eyebrows, and you chuckle. "Guess we'll have to let the others know we'll be staying another night," she says.

You nod, and cross to the table where you left the sat phone last night after checking in with Alisha, who's in charge at The Cocoon when you and Daisy are on the road. While you call her and let her know about the weather situation, Daisy moves into the kitchen area to start on making breakfast.

Once breakfast has been demolished – and you'd be astonished at the amount Daisy eats if you hadn't regularly seen her eating more after using her powers – and you've washed up together, she says she wants to write up her report for your trip to New England. You leave her to settle at the table with her laptop while you grab a book from the bookcase in the corner and drop onto the couch. You try to read, but you're aware that you're taking in very little because your mind is so busy with thoughts about what the increased intimacy of your relationship with Daisy is going to mean.

"Phil, stop worrying."

Daisy's voice is quiet, but it startles you nonetheless, and you look over at her, giving her a questioning look. 

"Your vibrations indicate you're stressed," she says, then grimaces. "Sorry, I can't shut this off, and it's even easier for me to 'read' your mood when you're the only person here."

You set your book down on the coffee table and move across the room to join her. "Doesn't it get overwhelming?" you ask worriedly.

"When there's a lot of people around, yeah. Why d'you think my quarters at The Cocoon are two floors above everyone else's?"

You bite your lip, then ask, "Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?"

She lifts her hands off her laptop's keyboard, and clasps your right hand in her left, and raises her right hand to cup your cheek. "Try not to fret so much," she says softly. "You and me, we're good together – we both know that – and the fact we're having sex isn't going to change the fact that we're a good team."

"Are you sure?" you ask, "because I don't want to compromise you."

"Oh Phil," she sighs. "You compromised me on day one. I promise you, a few mind-blowing orgasms aren't gonna make any difference to that."

You smirk at the words 'mind-blowing', and she chuckles, which makes you suspect she chose that adjective on purpose just to make you smile.

"I just don't want to get in your way," you tell her in a more serious tone. "You'll make a great Director in a few years time, if you're so inclined, and I don't want the fact we're intimate to influence anyone's view of you."

She pushes her chair back, then pulls you down onto her lap, startling you – you've never sat on a woman's lap before, and you discover that it feels good as Daisy wraps her arms around you.

"Are you saying you want to keep our relationship a secret?"

You hesitate before answering, and you can tell she appreciates you taking your time to answer. "Part of me wants to shout it from the rooftops," you confess, feeling a bit sheepish at the admission. "But another part of me doesn't, because I don't ever want anyone to look at you and assume that something you achieved was a case of who you knew or who you were fucking, rather than what you're capable of.

She kisses you, rather forcefully, you think, and you wonder why, until she says, breathlessly, "That was the best answer, Phil." She smirks. "I kinda like the idea of you being my dirty little secret."

You laugh, and she slides her hand up your thigh towards your thickening cock. You clasp her wrist and hold her hand away. "I don't want to interrupt your work," you tell her sincerely.

She smirks. "Phil, I've finished my report already."

"Oh." You immediately let go and she leans up and kisses you again as you feel your zip sliding down, and you realise she's vibrated it open, and that arouses you even more. "Fuck, Daisy," you groan.

She chuckles, then snakes her hand inside your pants and you can't help gasping when her fingers curl around your hot, hard flesh. "You didn't fuck me this morning," she observes, "and while I really enjoyed your show, I want your cock in me now, Phil."

"Anything," you groan. "Anything Daisy."

She laughs. "Be careful what you promise me, Phil, 'cos I will hold you to it."

She uncurls her hand, and you can't help whining, then she taps your knee. "Up you get." 

You grab the edge of the table and pull yourself off her lap, then give her a dazed look. "How do you want me to fuck you?"

She hums quietly, then says, "Bent over this table, I think." She unfastens her own jeans, her eyes fixed on yours, then shoves them and her panties down, before she leans her elbows on the table. "Get your cock out, Phil, and fuck me."

"Yes ma'am," you say immediately, and moving in behind her, you push your jeans down a bit, then you stop, the head of your cock brushing her thighs. "Condom?"

She delves into her pocket and passes one to you, and you quickly sheathe yourself, then guide your cock into her slick heat. She seems tighter in this position and you have to concentrate really hard so that you don't come the instant your dick fills her. She grunts when you bottom out, then presses her ass back against your crotch and you clasp her hips before you begin to thrust.

"We're going to do this in my office," she tells you, and you groan loudly. "Yeah, I knew you'd like that idea, Phil. How many times did you picture us fucking bent over your desk at The Playground?"

"I tried not to," you tell her, and you did try.

"Mmhmm. Bet it was more than once, though."

"God, Daisy."

She chuckles, seeming pleased by the idea, and you make yourself concentrate on the here-and-now so that you don't get lost in fantasies of sneaking into what's now Mack's office and bending her over the desk to fuck her deep and hard. 

She comes twice, and the second one sets you off too, and once you've finished you lean over and kiss the side of her neck, then the nape, before you carefully pull away from her.

She turns around and throws her arms around your neck, kissing you fiercely. "I hope we're stuck here for a few days," she tells you, and you raise your eyebrows at her, surprised by the sentiment. 

"You do?"

She nods. "Yeah, Phil. I just want a bit of peace and quiet with you." She bites her lip. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"Absolutely not," you say immediately, wanting to reassure her. It's not like she hasn't earned a few days of peace and quiet, with everything that's gone on in the year and a half since she got trapped in that temple in San Juan.

"Let's go back to bed," she says, and you chuckle. "I'm serious, Phil."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"I do."

You nod, then pull your jeans back up, and when Daisy's done the same, she grabs your hand and all but drags you into the bedroom. You light the fire because it's not warm in here, and you suspect she intends for the two of you to get naked again, then you turn around to see she's sitting on the end of the bed, giving you a speculative look.

"What?"

"I want you to tell me your fantasies," she says, and starts to undress, beginning with pulling off her boots.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," you say, and she laughs softly, then nods. "Okay, Phil. Deal."

Within a few minutes the two of you are naked again and lying side by side on the bed, Daisy entangling her legs with yours as she rests her head on the same pillow you're using. You can't resist wrapping your right arm around her, and she sighs, sounding happy, then whispers, "So, Phil, we're gonna take it in turns. I'll tell you a fantasy, then you tell me one. Okay?"

You nod eagerly, curious to know just what fantasies Daisy has.

AC-S-AC-S-AC 

The two of you do end up stuck at The Retreat for a few days – the snow just keeps coming down, and May advises against trying to use the Quinjet in a blizzard, even with the thing being piloted remotely.

You and Daisy spend much of the time in bed – not just for sex, but also cuddling together and talking, and she sleeps a lot, catching up, you think. You don't resent her for it, in fact you usually doze yourself – that half waking, half sleeping state that's quite restful in its own way. 

At Daisy's request you haven't shaved while you've been here and you get a certain thrill out of the way she likes to drag her tongue along your jaw despite it being unshaven. You've also discovered that you love it when she scratches her fingernails lightly across your skin, especially the nape of your neck, or through your hair. She, meanwhile, gets surprisingly aroused when you hold both her hands above her head and pin her to the bed while you fuck her. When she'd first mentioned that particular fantasy you'd been alarmed, worrying that it smacked of rape, but she'd reminded you that she's more than capable of throwing you off her if she chooses, then she'd explained that she likes the implied loss of control. Since you trust her to know her own mind, her own desires, and her own body, you do as she asks.

This morning you wake up to find her lying on her side, her head propped on her hand, and a wicked grin curling her mouth as you blink your eyes open. She bites down on her bottom lip, and you realise that she's already got the fingers of her other hand curled around your hard cock.

"Impatient," you mutter, and she flushes, then starts to move her fingers away, but you capture her wrist and bring her hand back. "I wasn't complaining – just teasing you."

She smirks at that, then leans down to kiss you, slow and deep and lazy, and you groan into her mouth. You'd swear your cock's growing harder as she kisses you.

By the time she pulls back to let you both catch your breath, you feel limp all over, aside from your cock, which is so hard it feels like an iron bar. You're about to ask her to ride you when a noise from the other room has Daisy out of bed in a flash, and you try to pull yourself up the bed to sit up just as she returns with the sat phone in her hand, which she passes to you.

"The storm's dying down," May tells you. "I should be able to remotely pilot you out of there around the middle of the afternoon."

"Okay," you say, fighting a sense of disappointment. 

"I'll call again at lunch time and give you an update."

"Thanks May." 

You look over at Daisy as you end the call, and catch a hint of the same disappointment in her eyes as you're feeling.

"Well, we knew it couldn't last forever," you say, aiming for philosophical, but uncertain if you've hit it.

"Yeah," she says. "Do you think we could come back here?"

You raise your eyebrows. "You mean after our next find-the-Inhuman mission?"

"Yeah. But also, you know, just any time we want to unwind a bit."

"I daresay we could swing it with Mack," you say, smiling. She nods, and you smirk. "So, where were we?"

That elicits a chuckle, and she glances at your cock, lying rigid against your belly. "Maybe we should concentrate on showering and breakfasting before we clean this place up?"

You make a little growly noise in the back of your throat, then push her onto her back and move your body over hers.

"Yeah, Phil," she says, sounding breathless. "Hands."

You groan: 'hands' is her way of telling you to pin her to the bed, so you grab her wrists and lift her hands above her head, then pin them either side of the pillow with your own as she spreads her legs wider. You reach down with your right hand long enough to guide your rock hard dick into her already slick sex, then you grasp her wrist again and start to thrust, doing your best to nail her to the mattress with your thick prick. Her hips buck up beneath you as you pound into her, and she comes twice, loudly crying your name, before you finally let go and come hard. You can't help slumping down on top of her while your cock continues to pulse inside her wet heat, and her sex continues to quiver around your prick.

"Fuck, Phil," she moans, and you agree wholeheartedly.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

"Hey Phil." 

Coulson looks up from the pile of files on his desk in your office as you saunter into the room, then close the door behind you. You're smiling, a particular kind of smile that you reserve for intimate moments between the two of you.

"Daisy," he says, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Mack's agreed to let us take a long weekend at The Retreat," you say, and he smirks, understanding your smile – it's the one you wear when you're planning a 'dirty weekend' with him.

"Has he? That's nice."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, Phil, it's 'nice'."

He chuckles; he loves teasing you, and you love him teasing you, though you don't always admit that.

"When do we leave?" he asks.

"Twenty minutes," you say, and he gapes at you a bit, clearly taken aback, then he looks back down at the stack of files on his desk. "Don't worry, Phil, there's nothing urgent there." You can't help smiling at the flash of surprise in his eyes that you're able to correctly figure out what he's thinking.

"I'd better pack, then," he says.

"I already did," you tell him.

"Oh really? Someone's eager." You sigh, and he gets up quickly and crosses the room to your side. "Sorry," he says softly, sliding his arms around you. "You need this break, I know, and you deserve it, too."

You lean into him and he slides his hand up your back into your hair, holding the back of your head. You rub your cheek against his, a tender little gesture that you know affects him a great deal because he's told you, on more than one occasion. 

"Do I need to stop off in the kitchen to grab some supplies?" he asks.

"Mmhmm," you say, squeezing your arms around him more tightly. "For the perishables, yeah."

"Shall we, then?"

"Yeah." You pull away from him, then slip your right hand into his left, and these days Coulson's prosthetic is sensitive enough to allow him to feel it when you briefly tighten your fingers around his hand. 

You walk down to the kitchen hand in hand still, and you smile and nod as various people greet you and Coulson, no one batting an eyelid at your joined hands. You had decided, six months ago, to tell the others in your team that you and Coulson are a couple, and have been for three years, which you had deemed was long enough for people to recognise that your intimate relationship with him hadn't interfered with your ability to do your job. 

Some of the people back at The Playground are also in the know – Mack and Bobbi (who are themselves together – the Inhuman evil that had inhabited Ward's corpse had killed Hunter – and Fitz), May and Andrew (and it still amazes you that you managed to stabilise Andrew's transformation so that you and Alisha and Joey could somehow separate 'Lash' from Andrew), and Jemma. Lincoln knows, but you rarely see him – he comes back to The Cocoon to help with transitioning Inhumans, but he tends to avoid you whenever he can, only interacting with you when strictly necessary. He never speaks to Coulson.

Once in the kitchen Coulson grabs a cooler and begins filling it with the perishables you'll want over the long weekend, while you grab a handful of items from the store cupboard.

"Is that everything?" you ask, and he nods, then takes your free hand in his as you head up to the roof where the Quinjet's waiting to take you off to The Retreat.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Over the last three years you and Coulson have personalised The Retreat in various ways, including bringing Coulson's record player here, and it never fails to make him smile when you immediately make a beeline for it while he puts away the foodstuffs. 

Pretty soon Bill Withers is busy telling you there 'Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone', and you smile as you come up behind Coulson and slide your arms around his torso, pressing your cheek to his back.

"Bath?" he asks, and you hum an agreement. Last year Coulson brought Joey and Mack out here, and together the three of them had done some remodelling – something you know that Joey had particularly enjoyed since it meant he got to use his powers in constructive ways. The bathroom's a more generous size, and contains a tub that's large enough for two people. Mack had squinted a bit at that, but since it hadn't cost him, or rather SHIELD, a red cent, he hadn't really had grounds for complaint. 

You can see Coulson smirking a bit when you sigh with pleasure as you sink into the bathtub – you'd been a bit sceptical about the changes he'd planned for The Retreat when he first mentioned them, but once they were in place, you'd been quick to praise his foresight, and quick to thank him, too.

"Think you can stay awake long enough to eat something after this?" he asks as he soaps your back and shoulders.

"Hope so," you murmur. "I'm hungry."

"Don't tell me, you missed lunch." You nod. "I'll make something quick and filling, then," he tells you, and you nod again. You can feel your muscles relaxing as his hands move over your back and shoulders, and you can feel Coulson relaxing too – you're intimately familiar with the way his vibrations change when he's relaxed and when he's stressed.

Once you've both bathed, you change into t-shirts and sweatpants, and head into the main room where you sit at the kitchen table with one of the tonic drinks that Jemma makes for you, while Coulson makes grilled cheese and heats up a container of his homemade tomato and basil soup.

After you've eaten, he puts the dishes in the dishwasher and you stretch out on the (newer, less lumpy) couch with a movie playing. He comes to join you, and you immediately snuggle into him – you suspect you'll be asleep before _Roman Holiday_ finishes, but you know he won't begrudge you that because he never does mind if you fall asleep on him.

When you wake up next you're in bed with Coulson; you're lying on your back and he's on his stomach next to you with his right arm thrown across your torso. You have a vague recollection of him helping you from the couch to the bedroom, but you're not sure if that's not a dream. You lift your left hand and scrub it over your face, then look at the clock on the nightstand: 6am, which means you got nine hours of sleep. You shift, intending to slip out of bed so you can go and do your morning workout, but Coulson's arm tightens across your body and he mumbles something incomprehensible.

"Phil," you say, lifting your hand to stroke his hair and the nape of his neck. "I need to get up."

"No," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "You don't. We're on vacation."

"Doesn't mean we have to be lazy," you tell him. You're teasing him, but you don't know if he's awake enough to be aware he's being teased. 

He lifts his head and looks at you, eyes bleary with sleep, but still looking sexy somehow, especially with the five o'clock shadow you love so much. "Yeah, Daisy, that's exactly what it means," he says insistently. He shifts next to you, wrapping both his arms around your body now, apparently trapping you. You're not really trapped, of course, because there are a number of moves you could use on him to get him off you, but you don't actually want him off you – you like it when he clings to you like this because it feels good to be held so tightly. You'd never expected to find this – with him or anyone else – and it makes you feel emotional when Coulson holds onto you as if he never intends to let you go.

"Phil," you said, making your tone stern, "I have stuff to do, vacation or no vacation, so you need to let go of me right now."

Instead of letting go, he shifts his body further down the bed until his head's resting on your stomach, his arms still wrapped around you. "Make me," he says.

You can't help laughing at that. "As if I couldn't," you say. 

He lifts his head again and smirks up at you. "If you could, I'd be on the floor by now," he says.

"Or maybe you'd be on your back?" you suggest, and with a quick twist of your whole body, you get him onto his back. You straddle his thighs, and his eyes are wide with surprise, as if he really hadn't expected you to pull that move on him.

You laugh at him as you pin him to the bed; you pull his arms above his head and wrap your hands tightly around his wrists, and press your breasts firmly against his chest. Then you shift your hips, smirking when you hear his breath hitch as your sex presses against his erection.

"Daisy," he groans, and you love it when he groans and moans – it's proof his defences are down and he's no longer the SHIELD guy, but your friend and lover.

"Maybe I don't need to get out of bed to do my workout after all," you suggest slyly, and his cheeks flush with a combination of embarrassment and arousal. "What do you say, Phil?" You smirk. "Are you _up_ for helping me workout?"

He moans loudly. "Daisy. You're killing me."

You chuckle. "Nah, not yet." You let go of his wrists, and he knows to keep his arms in place unless you tell him he can move, then you draw his t-shirt up his torso, scraping your nails lightly over his skin as the fabric moves upwards. You drag it off, tossing it to the floor, then you bend down and graze your teeth over his left nipple. He swears loudly, his body jerking involuntarily beneath yours, and you begin to manoeuvre him out of his sweatpants, exposing his rock hard cock and when the head pops out from beneath his waistband, you can't help licking your lips, then you drop his pants onto the floor before lowering your mouth to his cock.

His hips buck, and he immediately whispers an apology, but you reassure him, scraping your fingernails over his hip. He moans loudly, and you begin to suck him off in earnest, your head bobbing up and down energetically as you drive him closer and closer to a climax. He comes hard and you swallow his come easily until he's sprawled on the bed, utterly spent, his limbs loose and his breathing ragged. 

You sit up on his thighs and pull off your t-shirt, and although his expression's dazed, you can see he's watching you intently. You smirk, then get to your feet and drop your pants, and he moans quietly as you toss them to the floor with the rest of the clothing.

"Daisy."

"Phil?"

"I want to taste you."

"Yes." You suck in your breath sharply. You move up the bed, then kneel down over him. "You can move your hands," you tell him, and he immediately wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls your wet sex down towards his mouth. 

It's your turn to moan, now, as he works his lips and tongue and teeth over your flesh until you come with a loud cry. He's relentless in working you to a second orgasm within minutes of the first, and then you come a third time, before he taps at your thighs, which alerts you to the fact that you need to move so he can breathe again. You sprawl on the bed beside him, both of you gasping for air, then he rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around your torso again.

"Wanna fuck?" he asks casually, and you chuckle, then reach down and find that his cock's already thick and hard.

"Yeah, Phil," you say. "I wanna fuck." You roll over onto your stomach, then lift yourself up onto your hands and knees, and you feel Coulson's vibrations react with a sharp flare of lust. He moves in behind you and clasps your left hip tightly as he uses his right hand to guide his cock into your slick heat.

You moan because he seems to penetrate much deeper when he fucks you like this, and it feels really good. 

"You okay?" he asks once his cock's buried inside you.

"Yeah," you say, and push back against him. He chuckles, then shifts his hands from your hips to your breasts, before he begins to thrust.

He drives you to two more orgasms before he comes, his hands tight on your hips again as he empties himself into you. He slides out of you, then draws his hand across your lower back. "You okay?" he asks again. "Not too sore."

You shake your head before you lower yourself onto your stomach. "A bit," you tell him, "but not too bad."

He leans down and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. "Why don't I run you a bath?" he suggests, "and then I'll make us some breakfast."

"Sounds good," you mumble, and he kisses your neck again, then lightly grazes his teeth on your shoulder, and you turn your head to smile up at him.

"I don't know about killing you," you observe, "but I definitely feel well and truly fucked."

He chuckles, gives your left buttock a squeeze, then climbs off the bed and heads into the bathroom, and you close your eyes and contemplate, not for the first time, how lucky you are to have Coulson not only in your life, but in your bed. He seems to like nothing better than to take care of you.


End file.
